What I own: Season five of Chuck on DVD, a Nerd Herd sticker for my laptop and a brand new Helena shirt.
What I Don't: Rookie Blue. Nope, not mine. If it was, all this spoiler nonsense would HAVE HAPPENED THREE SEASONS AGO. I just play in the sandbox, I'll clean them up when I am done. Maybe.
Author's Note: Hi, my name is Helen Platinum and it has been eleventy-seven years since I have last updated. I know, I know, I'm sorry. RL has been killer and my muse called me last week from her round the world cruise, screamed 'I'M ON A BOAT BITCH' and just… took off again. I think she finally came home though. About damn time. So. This happened. Thank all the spoilers because they make me happy. Typical Ghost, out of order and fractured but… I think you'll be happy. Seriously, y'all never cease to amaze me with all of your love and support. I can't tell you the amount of times over the last few weeks I have peeked through alerts and reviews from you all just to lift my spirits. You are all rock stars, every single one of you. Reviews make me smile like Missy in Maui and are rewarded with much babble and love. The song for this chapter is 'Glycerine' by Bush, ft. Gwen Stefani. Yes, Janeycakes, for you. Just… love it. Questions, comments and your favorite soup recipes are welcome in PMs and on Twitter, I love to chat, as you can tell. Enough babble. Here, have some sweetness. And thank you, again for being amazing.
There was something special about being able to see the stars. It never got dark enough at home for that to happen. There was always light and energy, no matter what the hour, the streets were alive… and we were usually there to witness it, no matter what the hour. That was the job.
Out here though, it was so different. Slipping out of the unfamiliar bed, I grabbed the hastily discarded black shirt that was laying haphazardly covering the tipped over bedside lamp and bit back a laugh as the clattering sound, and the actions that had caused to end up that way flashed through my memory.
I froze, glancing at my husband's still sleeping form as he shifted, mumbling unintelligibly in his sleep. It was still almost ridiculously surreal. My husband. Twelve hours ago we were standing in front of a judge and now…
My fingertips danced over the rings on my left hand for an instant before I quickly buttoned my stolen shirt, wrinkling my nose as the fabric was just a little tighter than it should have been around my torso, and tiptoed across the room.
The moonlight streamed in through the sheer curtains that covered the French doors to the small balcony and I held my breath as I turned the knob so very carefully, just a smidgen at a time so as not to wake him. The hinges squeaked just a little bit as I pulled the door open and I cast a glance back towards the bed. Nothing. I swear, that man could sleep through anything sometimes.
Slipping through the doors, I rested my bare arms on the painted railing of the balcony and just breathed. The air was cool, though far from cold, and clean. It smelled like water and green and just… fresh. The sky was black and seemingly never-ending, scattered with twinkling stars. The sight, even after having seen it my entire life, still took my breath away.
It was such a simple thing but, I think, one that was so easily forgotten in the rush and flurry of day to day life. It was such a change to hear nothing but the breeze and the faint, familiar sound of breathing ten feet away, and I never wanted to forget it. Not a second of it.
A small flicker above me caught my eye and I glanced upwards, gasping as I saw it again. Just an instant before it was dark again. Had it been in the city, I was sure I would have imagined it. But no, there it was again. A firefly. I hadn't seen one since I went to camp as Girl Guide.
I reached out, slowly, almost hesitantly, with my palm up and grinned as the small flash of light grew closer and closer, landing for just an instant on my fingertips before zipping off into the night.
Tears filled my eyes and my smile grew, unbidden, as images of a curly haired little girl, dark like her fathers, skipped through a field at dusk, chasing the illusive bugs.
Turning, I glanced through the open door at the man who still lay sound asleep, muscular form bathed in moonlight. He may be a city boy but something told me that he would learn to appreciate the wonders that the country had to offer.